


(AntiHero) Feast

by EsculentEvil



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Biting, Blood, Clawing, Coming In Pants, Daemon Facts, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Self-Indulgent, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsculentEvil/pseuds/EsculentEvil
Summary: “I like it when you’re like this,” the hero quietly whispers into the villain’s ear, breath curling around in the little evil’s canal, “All quiet and no bravado.”“I–” The daemon swallows, unable to finish his sentence as a tongue teasingly follows the curve of his lobe and then jostles his onyx gauge. Rounded hips buck into slightly narrower ones as Anti moans into his opponent's hood-covered ear.This was supposed to just be a fill for@scrawl-your-heart-out’sprompt; but it ended up being a fill for myaceself... If that (an author’s self indulgence) or reading about asexuality or anything in the tags isn’t your thing: please don’t read.This also features a lot of headcanons I have for Anti, including: the fact that daemons have black blood, the fact that daemons feed off of impassioned emotions such as carnal pleasure, and the “fact” that Anti’s very much asexual and struggles a lot with how daemons feed...
Relationships: Jackieboy-man/Antisepticeye
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	(AntiHero) Feast

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly rated for frotting (even though they're fully clothed...) and looooots of blood (hey, Anti's still a daemon—no matter how soft I tend to write him).

Anti grunts as he’s slammed into a wall.

He hisses and bares his teeth, multicolored eyes glaring angrily at Jackie as their echoing sounds travel throughout the empty [Septic House](https://esculentevil.tumblr.com/post/187114003238/jsego-and-septic-concepts-1-the-septic-house). Chase has gone to visit his kids and take them to the park; Henrik’s gone to the hospital after his pager (no one knows why he still has one of those... the old fart) went off; Jameson’s with Marvin who wanted some help perfecting a performance; and Seán’s in LA visiting Mark and Amy with Evelien; even BB’s out with them.

They’re all alone in the house.

Embarrassment pools in Anti’s belly as Jackie, seemingly unperturbed by his attempts to ward him off, effortlessly presses him even deeper into the wall. Rippling muscles flex against a daemonically lean frame and Anti twitches as his antagonist suddenly leans forward to gently nose and nuzzle at his neck.

_“I like it when you’re like this,” the hero quietly whispers into the villain’s ear, breath curling around in the little evil’s canal, “All quiet and no bravado.”_

_“I–” The daemon swallows, unable to finish his sentence as a tongue teasingly follows the curve of his lobe and then jostles his onyx gauge. Rounded hips buck into slightly narrower ones as Anti moans into his opponent's hood-covered ear._

“That’s a nice sound, though,” Jackie murmurs thoughtfully, his large strong hands grabbing thick black-clad thighs and massaging them while chuckling and holding the Glitch aloft; “You can keep making noises like that, if you want.”

The daemon groans in response, obviously frustrated and angry with the hero. He tears at the bright red hoodie that hides the Super’s body with his elongated claws, wanting a pound of his flesh. Red blood pours in rivulets down Jackie’s back and chest as sharp fangs find a muscled shoulder and thick thighs are spread apart.

Narrow hips buck and grind against wider softer ones as the two moan in unity.

One of their breaths hitches—they can never tell who’s who when Anti feeds—and then they’re kissing; blood and sweat mixing; moaning and crying in unison. One of Anti’s hands finds its way into Jackie’s hair—loving that it’s free from the hero’s dramatic hood—and grips it tightly, increasing the amount of pleasure his partner feels; he ~~wants~~ needs him in unbridled ecstasy so he can have a meal.

A satisfied smirk pulls at his lips when the bucking stutters at his groin and hips.

Bruises form under Jackie’s fingers as he grips his counter’s thighs even tighter. He loves their thickness and how soft but firm they are when he squeezes them. He loves how they move, too; the gentle waves or fierce ripples when Anti feeds—it all depends on exactly how he takes his meal: sometimes it’s soft and slow while other times, like right now, it’s hard and almost violent due to his shame.

Anti needs to eat—they both know this—but, sometimes, he doesn’t want it.

Sometimes, his aversion to sex rears its ugly head and makes him run away; literally avoiding his food—carnal pleasure or any kind of passionate encounter—and, as a consequence, Jackie, too. This is why the hero had to chase him, had to fight him and shove him into an unyielding wall: to make sure he **eats**.

It’s a relief when they come together, wet and panting, in the living room; and when they come down together, too, with the remains of Jackie’s hoodie cushioning them lightly.

It takes several minutes but, eventually, Jackie asks very carefully, “You ok?”

Anti only glares at him—at first, anyway. After a few moments, he silently nods.

“Do you need any more? We can go farther if—”

“Ah don’ need yer dick!” It’s Jackie’s turn to grunt and be shoved as an angry—but mostly just embarrassed—daemon tries to reassert his independence.

The hero chuckles as he gazes back up at the flushed evil, loving how bright his eyes are in comparison to his blood-blackened face, “Okay, okay. Just offerin’.”

Anti huffs and shifts a bit as his cum makes his pants very uncomfortable. “Idiot. Ah feed off o’ yer pleasure; as long as ye don’t need ta put yer dick in ta feel t’at—” The little evil’s face is almost completely black at this point, he’s blushing so much, “Ah don’t need it.”

Jackie smiles from his purposefully prone position on the floor—he learned a long time ago that it’s better to appear unthreatening when Anti’s so insecure—and gently points out: “It’s okay ta say ya don’t **want** my dick, Anti.”

The daemon tenses. The hero’s sure he’s trying to find a way to argue with him.

Jackie doesn’t let him: “It’s called being _asexual_ , Lovely, and it’s **not** wrong.”

Anti clutches the bright red fabric under him as he seems to war with himself. “...” He looks a little helplessly at Jackie as he speaks very quietly: “Ah’m not... s’pposed ta be like t’is... Ah’m a **daemon** ; Ah should **love** sex an’ dick an’—”

“No, Anti,” Jackieboy-Man speaks very gently as he pulls his antagonist in close, holding him carefully, “You only love what you’re comfortable with.”

The little daemon sniffles as he hides his face in Jackie’s scratched up chest; then, Antisepticeye smiles, “T’at’s you, Ah guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this whole thing: thank you for indulging me; self-therapy seems to be all I can write lately... Hopefully you still found something in this piece to enjoy. Until next time, All.


End file.
